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<title>Chinese Sundays by longsufferingwall (candycanemockery)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29434557">Chinese Sundays</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycanemockery/pseuds/longsufferingwall'>longsufferingwall (candycanemockery)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Annoyed John, Black Forest Gateau, Chinese Food, Domestic Fluff, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Sherlock likes dessert, Valentine's Day, Why?, persistent sherlock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:34:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29434557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycanemockery/pseuds/longsufferingwall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have differing ideas as to what constitutes a Valentine's Day dinner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chinese Sundays</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't know what this is, and I will not pretend it is something to be proud of it, but it was fun :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“JOHN!”</p>
<p>The man in question jumped at the sound, nearly cutting his finger with the knife in his hand. He placed it carefully on the counter and wandered into the sitting room. “What?”</p>
<p>Sherlock waved his hand in the general direction of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>John rolled his eyes. “What do you think I’m doing in the kitchen?”</p>
<p>“Since when have you conducted experiments?” Sherlock asked, brow furrowed. </p>
<p>“Oh, for the sake of — I’m cooking, Sherlock. What normal people do in the kitchen. As opposed to timing the precise number of seconds it takes for the human eye to take on the consistency of oatmeal when put in a blender. I have yet to question you about that, and I am never going to. I have no desire to hear your rationale, nor do I have any desire to think about it any further. But that is not what the kitchen is there for,” he finished dramatically. </p>
<p>“Why are you cooking?” </p>
<p>“So that we have food. You know, for dinner. The meal you’re supposed to eat in the evening.”</p>
<p>“It’s Sunday.”</p>
<p>“...yes.”</p>
<p>“You are cooking on a Sunday.”</p>
<p>“Is this going anywhere, or shall I get back to—”</p>
<p>“—it’s Sunday,” Sherlock repeated with emphasis, cutting John off with no indication of having heard him.</p>
<p>“So I’ve heard. I’m afraid the importance of what day of the week it is is eluding my comprehension.”</p>
<p>“We have Chinese on Sundays.”</p>
<p>John paused for a moment. “We do?”</p>
<p>“We have had Chinese every Sunday since the 18th of October. That’s nineteen consecutive Sundays of Chinese for dinner. Is that not an established tradition?”</p>
<p> “You kept count?” </p>
<p>“My brain kept count.”</p>
<p>“Right. Well, I guess we’re breaking the pattern tonight,” John said with a shrug. </p>
<p>“Why?</p>
<p>“It’s Valentine’s Day.”</p>
<p>“Is Wei’s Place closed?”</p>
<p>“I just want to cook my boyfriend a nice meal on our first Valentine’s Day, all right, Sherlock?” John said with a sigh.</p>
<p>Sherlock blinked. “Your boyfriend?”</p>
<p>Good lord. “Yes. My boyfriend. Sherlock Holmes.”</p>
<p>“So I’m — then you’re my—”</p>
<p>“— what on earth did you think this relationship was? Sherlock, we’ve slept — and more — in the same bed for nearly a year. So yes, as far as I am aware, you are mine, and I am yours. We are partners. Happy?”</p>
<p>“I would be happier if I had Chinese food right now,” Sherlock replied, returning to his previous subject of focus with no segue, as usual. </p>
<p> “I’ll order Chinese tomorrow, okay?”</p>
<p>“Tomorrow isn’t a Sunday.”</p>
<p>“Then we can start a new tradition.”</p>
<p>“But we have one.”</p>
<p>“You are a relentless, insufferable, gorgeous bastard, but I am already three quarters of the way through dinner,” John responded, waving his hands. </p>
<p>“We can refrigerate it for tomorrow.” </p>
<p>“We could, but then it wouldn’t be a Valentine’s Day dinner, would it?” John said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. </p>
<p>“Well, any dinner today would be a Valentine’s Day dinner, regardless of the source. It is the fourteenth of February. It doesn’t have to be the one you are making. That can be a fifteenth of February dinner,” Sherlock replied. </p>
<p>“The 15th of February isn’t a holiday.”</p>
<p>Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “It’s Susan B. Anthony Day in the States.”</p>
<p>“We are not in the United States. Nor are we women.”</p>
<p>“But it is a holiday.”</p>
<p>John tossed his hands in the air dramatically. “You’re impossible.”</p>
<p>“I am making a rational argument as to why we do a perfectly possible thing. How am I impossible?”</p>
<p>“Sherlock…”</p>
<p>“We have had Chinese for dinner on 19 consecutive Sundays and I see no reason to change that now because of some arbitrary holiday.”</p>
<p>“How about changing it because your boyfriend has spent four bloody hours trying to make the perfect black forest gateau because he knows it’s your favorite?” John said, raising his eyebrows in challenge. </p>
<p>A moment of silence, and then: “We can have Chinese, and dessert.”</p>
<p>“I...you…” John trailed off and made an indecipherable sound.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Hello? Yes, I would like to place an order...”
  </div></div>
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